Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“When’s your turn?” Lucas asked.
Delaney squinted through her blooming smile, and the shiver from the cold air in the cabin kissing her exposed breasts; her nipples peaked from the chill. “Get a fire going first.”
The request sent Lucas pulling away from Delaney instantly, but not before he dropped a quick peck to the tip of her button nose. “On it now.”
He left her laughing, and happy, in the bed after covering Delaney with the quilt. To her satisfaction. Not a fingertip or toe outside of the heavy fabric that smelled like Lucas and wrapped her in the same cozy warmth.
Delaney allowed only the peek of her face to be free from the cocoon of the blanket as she watched Lucas’ back retreat down the stairs, away from the upper landing. Overwhelmed by the trickle of need still teasing her nerves, Delaney rolled to her back in the bed and eyed the massive glass gun rack that framed the wall behind the beds. Full of rifles and a couple of nice looking hunting bows with displayed quivers, it gave her something else to focus on instead of the urge to get herself off.
She could do it quietly.
In less than thirty seconds, actually.
However, patience served Delaney well. It brought good things.
Delaney heard Lucas’ movements change from one side of the cabin to the other downstairs before a door slammed. The bathroom. Twenty seconds later, the toilet flushed, and a minute after, he exited the bathroom with a call back up to her.
“You want coffee, sweetheart?”
“It wouldn’t be stale, right?”
Lucas laughed. “No, that shit stays good for years.”
“Mmm, yes please.”
Water ran in the kitchen before the sound of the cast iron kettle clinked onto the wood stove in the middle of the cabin.
“Good news,” Lucas’ voice traveled from downstairs, “there’s coals, but we came close to just ashes.”
The rustle of fabric and the stomp of boots told Delaney he had gotten his parka and footwear on a second before the front door opened and slammed shut in the same breath. Not two minutes later, the light of the lamp on the bedside table that had sat between the two twin beds when they were previously separated flickered on where it now sat in the corner of the loft.
The generators got turned off at night.
It saved gas.
Lucas entered the cabin with news that it wasn’t as cold as yesterday, by far, and that would do well for the old Chevy in the garage that didn’t like running in below minus twenty temps. Or so he explained. She tried to listen.
Did her best, really.
Delaney just wanted his mouth and hands to be doing other things, now.
“I’ll let it run for a bit before we head out. Get the engine nice and warm,” he explained as she listened to him feed logs into the wood stove.
Every minute that passed with him working down below made Delaney curl tighter and tighter into herself as she waited for him to return to her.
Where she wanted him the very most.
The need vibrated through her sinew. Maybe that spoke to the length of time she had allowed herself to go without sex, or any physical intimacy with a partner, but she’d not met a man in recent years who woke her up like Lucas did.
She could taste it, even.
He made her feel alive.
That was the key for Delaney.
What she needed most to really want a man.
“Where’s my coffee?” she jokingly asked as Lucas climbed the stairs to the loft.
He winked, moving to the bed where he could get a good grip on the edge of the quilt she had hidden herself inside like a burrito, and she could see what he had in his other hand. A washcloth from the bathroom. “You’ll get that as soon as the kettle squeals. Let me in—I want to clean you.”
Well …
“Fine,” Delaney mumbled, but not very happily.
She helped him to unfurl the quilt, but little did he know that she had used the sleep shirt to wipe away the stickiness he left behind on her hands and stomach. She pulled the shirt off once she was sitting up in the bed, and tossed it to the pile of dirty undergarments the two had left in the corner the night before.
Try to keep it to a load or less, it helps the old washer.
Those were his words.
Fine by her.
Lucas didn’t hide his appreciative gaze drifting over her naked upper half as he carefully cleaned her hands with the warm washcloth before she laid back against the pile of two fluffy pillows to give him better access to her stomach.
The shift of her legs, sliding together, drew his stare lower. There was no hiding the slit of wetness peeking out from her panties at the apex of her thighs.
“You left me in a bit of a spot,” she explained, opening her legs to give him a flash before she closed them again.